


Hangover

by RicochetRomance



Series: My Grandmaster [4]
Category: Pathfinder (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Clueless Orion, Hangover Cliches, M/M, Pathfinder Society, Roleplaying Character, Short, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-22 17:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12487436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RicochetRomance/pseuds/RicochetRomance
Summary: The waterways of the Puddles were horrifically polluted, by sewage, spell remnants, alchemical regents, corpses, and every other foul substance imaginable. Torch shuddered at the realization that Orion, as a predatory aquatic creature, had actually swum in that water to make this catch.---In which Orion has no idea how to deal with the morning after.





	Hangover

**Author's Note:**

> Originally shared with my Pathfinder RPG group via Google Doc, cross-posting here to share it with a larger audience. 
> 
> Link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/10N-ZhQX6S0vhdLiC80I_CbjBXGTEkr9rfKAuG3ENj-g/edit?usp=sharing

Last night had been Hell on Golarion for the former Grandmaster Torch. A series of vicious arguments with vengeful Society members, three attempts on his life, two dozen angry imps, and the decision to get blissfully drunk on cheap Ustalav vodka.

This morning (was it morning or afternoon?) his hangover was incredible and his half-scabbed wounds itched like Hellfire. The sound of a key scraping in the front door lock sent a wave of agony through his pounding head. Misery was an understatement.

That is, until the door opened to reveal Orion, who was holding a large fish in his arms. Now, the understatement was confusion.

"Morning," Orion's voice was cheerful but thankfully quiet. "I got you some... breakfast?" He didn't seem sure of the word, and judging by the fish, he wasn't too sure of the concept, either.

Torch glared at the cold, dead trout with deep loathing. "That fish is from the canal." He grumbled. "It's almost certainly inedible."

The waterways of the Puddles were horrifically polluted, by sewage, spell remnants, alchemical regents, corpses, and every other foul substance imaginable. Torch shuddered at the realization that Orion, as a predatory aquatic creature, had actually swum in that water to make this catch. 

"Mmm?" Orion didn't seem concerned. "I catch fish in the canal every morning. They're edible... well, sort-of edible."

Strangely enough, Torch didn't find that reassuring. In fact, it was reasonably horrifying - the Undine immersed himself in pure filth on a daily basis in order to catch these questionable meals, and didn't seem troubled by it. 

Raising himself into a seated position, he gave a groaning sigh. "If breakfast is going to be disgusting, it's at least not going to be poisonous." 

He gestured for the fish, and Orion held it out. Even simple spells verged on torture for his aching head, but this was among the simplest. A few arcane words, a gesture, and the fish glowed softly with white light.

Orion quirked his head as he identified the spell - Purify Food and Drink. Sure, the fish in the canals weren't particularly healthy-looking, or clean, or pleasant tasting, but he doubted that they were poisonous. Still, his Grandmaster knew best. 

"You'll... want it cooked?" Orion asked, shifting uncertainly from foot to foot.

Torch rolled his eyes. "Yes," he grumbled reluctantly. Even if the fish was now free of poisons, Orion's cooking would still probably kill him. 

The Undine gave a timid nod and headed to the kitchen. He had little confidence in his cooking skills and knew that his Grandmaster has even less, but this was (in his mind) an emergency situation. After all, Torch was unwell, and food was usually helpful.

As the Grandmaster watched Orion leave the room, he yet again contemplated the foolishness of allowing his guards a week off. Three assassination attempts were bad enough, but not having them available to bring him food from the nearby marketplace's stalls was far, far worse.

Well, at least this incident had solved one mystery, that of Orion's eating habits - the Undine had politely refused to let Torch provide food for him. He would have preferred that it had remained a mystery.

Torch assumed that he must have at some point lapsed back into a nigh-unconscious sleep, because the meal seemed to be ready within a few minutes. Orion, humming, was carrying over a plate of something closely resembling fish sticks.

It would have been a reassuring image, had Orion not had a long greyish strip of raw fish hanging from his mouth, which flopped around limply as he slowly moved his jaw to consume it.

Torch winced. Nausea had never been a prevalent factor in his hangovers, but this was an exception. Thankfully, none of the vomit ended up in the bathtub.

Today wasn't going to be anything resembling a good day, but at very least Orion had stopped humming.

**Author's Note:**

> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
